Blah
by Ceceila
Summary: When the Jump Street team is informed that a local starlet is being threatened, Penhall and Hanson are assigned to tail her. Rating may change. It all depends on my dirty mind and potty mouth...
1. Chapter 1

Grey pulled her candy-apple red Cadillac into the driveway of her cousin's house and pulled the top up. It was dark and the porch light was out so she had to slide her hand over the white and red leather seats to find her school books. After she had them, she exited the car and slammed the door behind her. Blindly, she fiddled with her keys on her way to the front door until she found the house key. Putting the key into the lock, she turned it and stepped inside only to have the front hall light flip on and blind her. Bringing a dainty hand up to shield her eyes, she scowled and blinked rapidly to help her eyes adjust.

"Oh, thank God," was all she heard before she was enveloped in a set of strong arms and pulled into a hard chest.

"Uhm… Trevor," came her chest-muffled voice. "What are you doing?" She was released quickly and her cousin began looking her over, grabbing her arms and such to make sure she was okay. Getting impatient, Grey snatched her arms away from him and glared up at his worried face. "Trevor," she began slowly, her voice taking on a scarily-calm tone. "What. Are. You. Doing?" She made each word into it's own sentence to push the fact that she expected and answer. And she expected it soon. His green eyes did another quick sweep of her person before he opened his mouth then closed it again trying to form an acceptable response. Finally he thought, _fuck it,_ and handed her the envelope he had in his back pocket.

"What's this," she asked as she took it from him, her brows knitting together. She took a look at the envelope and saw there was no return address. An uneasy feeling began to grow in the pit of her stomach as she flipped the envelope over in her hands and saw that it was already torn open. She glared at Trevor before digging into the envelope and pulling out it's contents. As she did so, her breath caught in her throat and her brows furrowed deeper into a hard scowl.

In the envelope were a set of candid photographs of her. They were taken from a variety of distances, from maybe one hundred yards to ten feet away. The thought that someone was photographing her from such a close distance without her knowing sent a chill down her back to pool at the base of her spine. Every photo also had been marked up with a red marker. She eyed the pictures and looked through them carefully, unconsciously walking through the hall and into the sitting room, dropping her books to the ground with a thud and sinking heavily into the sofa. Trevor followed close behind her and took a seat beside her without her notice.

"When did these get here," she asked. She ran a thin finger along the red line along her throat in one of the pictures.

"I don't know. They showed up in your room. I went in looking for a pencil," he explained when she glared at him. She nodded and continued to look through the photos. In some, a line was drawn on her exposed skin to show a cut-mark. In others her eyes had been burned out with a cigarette. But the last one caught her by surprise. It was a close up of her face, probably taken with a zoom-lens. She stared at it with a calculating expression on her face. "What," Trevor asked concernedly. Wordlessly, Grey handed him the last print, but before it even reached his hands, he saw what she had been looking at. In the center of her forehead there was a bullet hole accompanied by a few squiggles of red pen down her face to indicate blood. "We should call the police," Trevor stated. Grey just nodded, eyes staring blankly ahead of her.

"You do that," she said flatly after a moment of silence. "While you're wasting your time, I think I'm going to go take a shower and go to bed." Trevor attempted to give her a comforting hug but she shrugged him away. Standing there with a pained, concerned expression, he watched as she slowly climbed the stairs before he went to the kitchen to use the phone.


	2. Chapter 2

Tom pulled into the parking lot of the chapel bright and early Monday morning. He noticed that there were only two other cars in the lot, one belonging to Penhall and the other belonging to Captain Fuller. Wondering why he glanced at his watch and got the answer to his silent question. It was only six-forty in the morning and the other officers usually didn't get in until seven-thirty or eight at the very latest. Exiting the car, he climbed the stairs and entered the building.

"It's about time," Penhall called from his desk. Tom took in his appearance. Penhall wore a navy blazer over a white shirt and khakis. Raising a brow in question he walked to join his partner.

"What's with the treads?" Doug glanced down at himself and grimaced.

"Private school," he replied and Tom nodded. "Fuller wants you in his office so he can give you the run-down." Tom nodded and headed to the coffee machine, got himself a cup and walked to the captain's office without a word.

"Captain," he asked with a knock at the door frame.

"You're late," came Fuller's annoyed reply. Tom walked in and sat down in front of him. "A local celebrity is being stalked," he began. "She's been getting death threats in the mail and Friday night she received an envelope full of photographs, each depicting her death." Tom nodded. "You've heard of Grey Wynters, I assume?" Raising his brows in surprise, Tom nodded.

"Yeah, Grey Wynters. She was some big child star about ten years back. Then she started doing more adult roles, right?" Fuller nodded. "She's being stalked," he asked in a disbelieving tone. Again the captain nodded. "Shouldn't she have some kind of security or something? A bodyguard maybe?"

"Not since she's decided to be a normal kid. She also doesn't want police protection."

"Can she even say that? I mean, how old is she? Sixteen? Shouldn't it be up to the parents?"

"She's emancipated herself. Her parents have no authority over her anymore, and even if she hadn't, she just turned eighteen. She has the right to refuse protection." Tom shook his head. "Now, I want you and Penhall to find out who's stalking her and put a stop to it. And you know not to blow your cover, so I don't have to tell you that. Here's your file and transcripts to turn in. You can look them over while you're getting fitted for your uniforms." Tom nodded and began to leave the office. When he reached the door he turned.

"What exactly are we supposed to do, Captain?" Fuller looked up from his pile of paperwork and thought for a moment. Finally he said,

"It's your case, Hanson. You figure it out." Tom nodded and left for his fittings, head bent over his file all the way.

* * *

"Are you sure you want to go to school today, cuz?" Trevor stood in the doorway as Grey spun around her room. She was obviously looking for something, though what it was, he did not know. She stopped when he asked her the same question he'd been asking her since she had gotten up a half hour ago. Placing her hands firmly on her hips, she spread her legs in a defiant stance.

"Yes, I am absolutely sure that I want to go to school today. If whoever this psycho is is a student then I need to show them that they don't scare me. Now help me find my blue shirt," she said and returned to her wild searching. Trevor stepped inside her room and began helping her. After a moment, he stopped and turned to her.

"Are you really sure-," he began but stopped as Grey rounded on him and stuck a long, thin finger in his face, the manicured nail dangerously close to gouging his eye.

"Don't," was all she said before turning around and going to her closet. With her back turned, she spoke to him, her voice calm and even. "If you ask me one more time, I'll kill you." Trevor nodded, knowing she couldn't see and walked behind her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and resting his chin on her head.

"I just want to make sure you're okay, cuz." Grey nodded and turned to hug him.

"This doesn't make you feel the least bit odd," she asked after a moment. He pulled away from her to look her in the eyes, a questioning look on his face. "Hugging your half-naked cousin," she explained.

"Nope. I don't like girls, remember? Besides, even if I did, we aren't in the south anymore, so cousin-lovin' is out the window." Smacking him in the chest, she laughed and turned back to her closet. He went to lounge on her bed. "You know, Amie might have your shirt," he informed.

"Why would she have my shirt," she asked with a cocked brow. Trevor shrugged.

"Because she's a little thief," he answered. Grey nodded, knowing he was right and left her room, crossed the hall and knocked on her younger cousin's door.

"Amie," she called through the wood. "Amie, it's me! Open up!" She knocked again. The door opened to reveal a small girl, maybe fourteen to fifteen years of age with frizzy blonde curls and freckles. Her large blue eyes widened as she looked up at her cousin.

"What," she asked nastily. It seemed to Grey that her younger cousin felt as though she had ruined her day by just asking about her shirt. Blinking rapidly for a few seconds, Grey stepped back from the door.

"Have you seen my blue shirt? It's got long sleeves and in comes down to about right here," she said and pointed a finger to the top of her breasts. "It's a V-neck," she added. "And the label is Italian." Amie looked her up and down for a second before slamming the door in the older girl's face. "Amie," she shouted and pounded on the door.

"Just go inside," a voice said behind her. Trevor stood, leaning against the door of her bedroom with an annoyed expression on his face. Grey shook her head and began pounding on the door again. A few seconds later, Amie poked her head out and Grey ducked as a twirling, spinning bit of blue fabric came flying at her face. The door slammed abruptly.

"Thanks a lot," she shouted and stomped back into her bedroom, Trevor trailing behind her. She walked to her desk and shoved the sweater inside her bag before picking it up and swinging it onto her shoulder. Heading toward the door, she stopped as a sniggering sound reached her ears. "What," she growled, rounding on her cousin.

"Uhm…" He pointed to her chest and sniggered into his hand. Grey looked down and sighed. Flinging her bag onto the floor beside the door, she walked over and dug into her dresser. Pulling out a white Oxford-style shirt, she quickly pushed her arms through the sleeves and did up the buttons before grabbing a green and navy plaid tie from the dresser-top and slinging it across her shoulders. Picking up her bag from the door, she turned to her cousin again.

"Shut it," she mumbled which caused him to break out into raucous laughter as he followed her out the door and to Grey's car.


End file.
